Thunk!
With a clap, the boy grabbed his mother’s dress and pointed towards Adrian with a gleeful grin. She dropped down to his height and let him regale her with his tale.
“Five! He got five in a row, momma!” He said, his finger still flailing in Adrian’s direction.
In response, the man offered a short smile, then loosed his sixth arrow. His last shot was splintered. He placed his bow down on a nearby tool table, then turned to the boy and his mother. Claude and Candace, respectively. They were in what amounted to their backyard, an open stretch of land with some fencing to establish a line between them and their neighbors. He had helped restore one edge of their fence the morning prior. Behind him, a makeshift target practice area had been set up with the use of some of their trees. The painted bullseye on each were skewered with his arrows.
“That’s good enough for me. I can get my things together tonight and head out on the morrow.”
“What?” Claude sounded devastated, and even Candace frowned before speaking in tandem with him.
“Are you certain?” She stood up, leaving her son to approach Adrian. She held her hands properly in front of her.
Adrian glanced back at the makeshift arena, “…Yes. Each day I spend here is another day she gets further from me.”
Candace placed a hand below her chin.
“Lord Cromwell will find her, Adrian. I would expect nothing less from him.” She said, the warmth in her smile briefly melting the stress from Adrian’s shoulders. Before he could say much of anything himself, Adrian looked to the back door of the home as Candace’s husband and Claude’s father, Ernest, came walking towards them. He looked frantic.
Upon his approach, he gently placed a hand on Candace’s shoulder while he gripped a near-bursting pouch in his other hand. Adrian knew what it was. His compensation.
“I…We can’t accept this, Adrian. This is too much—“
“You can and will accept it.” Adrian sighed, looking down to see Claude gripping his mother’s dress again. The boy only ever gave Adrian the happiest of smiles. He looked back to the man. “Did you get the horse I requested?”
“Yes…She’s in Horman’s stable.” Said Ernest, his eyes shifting between Adrian and the pouch in his hand. A gold coin slipped out, though Adrian quickly caught it. The boy stared at this display, wide-eyed and grinning. Adrian gently tucked the coin back into the pouch.
“That’s good. I’ll be out of your hair by morning.” Slipping past the family, Adrian thought for a moment before making one final comment. “There’s enough to reconsider giving your boy a sibling.”
* * *
Staying with the family had proved difficult. His recovery lasted well over two weeks, and Adrian had barely managed to convince Ernest to drink with him. The migraines he experienced as a result were nearly worse than the muscle spasms from Caed’s magic.
Adrian couldn’t believe how badly he’d fumbled that sorcerer. He counted his lucky stars that he still had his head.
Never mind how badly his head wanted to tear itself off the past while. Now that he was fully functional, Adrian left the residence during the evening to satiate his addictions. There was a tavern nearby the residence that he found good enough. The character of each patron was of a genuine, hardworking sort. Not the sort of people he usually jived with. But he had nothing against them.
On this night the general atmosphere was rather lonely. While he tasted his third drink he noticed that there was only the tender and another regular off in the corner.
Well, that was fine with him. His…Vice, as it were, was a point of shame for him. He didn’t necessarily want to share it.
At least, that was what he thought before the Stranger sidled up beside him. Adrian flagged down the bartender and got them a drink of their own. Silence pervaded between them while they waited. Adrian did not look directly at them. When he passed the tankard to the Stranger, the bartender looked between them and Adrian. He was perplexed. Yet, he turned and walked away without voicing any concerns.
Not that he could remember what they were.
“This has been an enjoyable tale, Giarmund.” The Stranger said. Their voice, roughly male, was rather common, all things considered.
Adrian turned his gaze down. On his belt was the mask. No longer was it constrained by Meredith’s seals, and as such, Adrian could see that the eyes were glowing an eerie emerald green.
“So many twists and turns. Color me surprised to see your resolve being one of them.”
Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Stranger palming the tankard. It was already nearly empty.
“How will the dashing Prince of Thieves save the beautiful damsel in distress? Will he steal her heart with his heroics? Ha, ha.”
The laugh was stunted. It was clearly sarcasm. But, Adrian knew them and expected their antics. He knew them too well.
“Ah, but how boring would that story be?” The Stranger chuckled. “I already have a face like that. I wonder, what will your face be in the end, Adrian Giarmund?”
Adrian sighed, noting the empty tankard and seat beside him. He glanced back down at the mask. There was no glow in its eye holes now.
He finished his drink, overpaid, and left to get some rest before he went further into Ashvale the following morning.